Blonde Misfortune
by The Bud
Summary: Just something to entertain Squeekness, and whom ever else would like this kind of thing. Emma fans need not read...seriously, don't do it. I'm telling you this for your own good.


I'm not taking responsibility for this. Please don't sue.

Just a little something special just for Squeekness. If you like Emma, please don't read.

Blonde Misfortune.

There is a reason why no natural blonde lives past forty, because then their naturally gray. I saw my gray hair sneaking up on me and I was not pleased. Scott was telling me that "It's fine! Makes you look dignified." But he's male, He could be gray as a door mouse and pot-bellied to boot and he'd still be called a good- looking man. I have to do something like a hundred sit ups and speed walk several hours a day to look this good. I have to starve and eat grass like a rabbit and all he has to do is get old.

"I'm not going to get old and fat!" I tell myself as I head for the nearest drug store to get my solution. I wish I could go to a salon, but Scott, that cheeky bastard, thinks I should set an example for the other teachers and live like they do. Bah! Would he even notice an extra three hundred dollars missing out our account? "Yes. Yes I would." He thinks over our shared mental connection.

"Next thing you're going to tell me is that your precious Jean never went gray." I snark back at him because I know that is the best way to piss that boy scout off. He must have called in an "Annoy Emma" to Storm, because as soon as I roll off the property, the skies open and hail starts denting in my silver white car. I had to pay a lot of money for that paint. The only thing that makes it worth my while is seeing the soaking wet figures of Jean and Logan running back to their house, just before I hit a deer.

After the two mile hike in three inch heels back to the mansion, I finally open the door, and the rain stops. I swear I hear laughter. I grab Scott's car keys and head back to the garage. I would have left a note, but the pen on the fridge burst all over my pristine white halter top and I had to put on the one shirt I had that wasn't at the dry cleaners or being wrinkle steamed. My daughter had made it for me at school, a tie dyed T-Shirt with her hand prints on it. I'm going to kill her art teacher, if he wasn't freakishly tall and could turn to metal.

Just as I turn to walk out the door, I smack into it and fall backwards, banging my head on the floor. I swear I didn't leave that open and now I'm going to have a black eye. I can't tend to it now, because if I don't go now, the store will be closed when I get there and I won't shop at any super –sized all night mega store. That is too beneath me.

I get to Scott's car and find our youngest child has smeared it with mud and stuck the hose in the gas tank. Wasn't somebody supposed to watching him? Scott was. I can tell because there is his handprint right next to Alex's on the rear windshield, along with another body part print.. At least the hose wasn't on, so I give it a tug out and slip in the mud. Now my hundred dollar pants are expensive rags.

I go inside and change again, this time I found a pair of jeans that were left here by Rogue, holes in the knee and all. My boots are ruined, so I borrow Storms sandals she left outside near the porch.

"I look like trash!" I tell myself as I actually get that heap of junk Scott's so fond of, started. It's an old, red hatch back with lime green interior. I have to remind myself just how color blind Scott really is.

This time, the sky stays put as I drive up to the gates. One doesn't open all the way and I cut gashes into the side of Scott's car with it. "Good, maybe he'll have to get a new one." I think to myself as I manage to hit the mail box. He refuses to tell me why he even keeps this wreck, but as Logan sees me trying to put the mail box back up, and comes over to help, smelling like a dripping wet dog, lets me in on the secret. He doesn't say it, but I hear him think to himself "So that's the car Jeannie lost her virginity in. Huh… Stains still on the driver seat." But he does ask me "Didn't Scott buy that car like ten years ago from Mr. Grey? And it still runs? That's a good car!"

"I'm going to hurl. Then kill Scott, then burn this car to the ground." I tell myself as I get a face full of sweaty, hairy, armpit.

"All put up." He says before adding insult, but I think he was being honest. "You look good today! You do something different with your hair?" He walks back to his house, and I hope to take a shower as I squeamishly settle back into that disgusting drivers seat. I pass my crumpled car, but somebody's already taken the deer. I just hope it wasn't that Cajun, because if I see him process one more of those animals on my lawn, I'm going to loose it. Scott keeps telling me that that isn't my lawn, but the Professors, but still, I am head mistress. What I say should go.

I finally get to the store, five minutes after it closed and somebody hands me a dollar and tells me "Everything is going to be all right." I mentally suggest that person go stick his thumb where the sun doesn't normally shine.

I have to go to the mega-mart. I'm just glad I brought cash so that this won't show up on my statement. I drive out to this place behind the oldest gray haired lady, inching her way down the road. I park as close as I can, which is still a quarter mile walk, thanks to a fair being held in the parking lot. For once, nobody even notices me, I feel odd.

I get to the hair care isle, and notice about three Mega Mart employees asking me if I need help, I know they think I'm going to steal, so I plant the ideas into two of their heads that their gay, and the other one was the common lover between the two. That will pass by tomorrow.

There are about thirty different shades of blonde, but "Diamond Blonde" seems about right. As soon as I pick up the box, about five of my students walk by, with one in particular exclaiming "I knew it." I remind them of curfew, but I know they have me. Soon everybody at that school's going to think I do this on a regular basis, then I hear the clicking of camera phones and know that they must die. I try to suggest nightmares about Logan into their brains, but one of them is a psy, and now I just have a headache.

I pay for my purchase and go home, but not after having to have that foul scrap heap of Scott's jumped off and a number to a battered woman's shelter handed to me, and some kid puking on me after riding the tilt-o-whirl.

When I got home, Gambit was indeed skinning that animal, even offering me the pelt and laughing as I see why. I'd forgotten my period was due today. I have no idea how long I've been walking around like this, so I kick him in the head and make him forget about it.

I change into one of Scott's pajamas and read the directions on that blasted box. After a while, I start smelling an odd smell and burning, so I run to rinse out my hair and chunks of it clog the drain. I look in the mirror and find myself with bald patches, now I'm going to have to wear a wig.

I turn around to get a towel and knock two teeth out on the door. I swear that door is out to get me.

When I wake up, I see a scarecrow, a tin man and a lion looking at me, telling me I won the costume contest and all I can think is, "Damn! I hate Halloween."


End file.
